


love can't always be perfect

by Lire_Casander



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alex Is His Own Warning, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Cheating, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: After an unexpected night out dancing, he finds himself inexplicably in love. Until he finds out, the next morning, that the man heʼs danced with and the groom of this wedding he’s helping planning are the same person.ORThe Wedding PlannerAU nobody asked for, but I kinda wanted to write
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, TK Strand/Alex (9-1-1 Lone Star)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 107
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star Week, L O N E  S T A R





	love can't always be perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [911 Lone Star Week](https://911lonestarweek.tumblr.com/), **Day 3: Alternate Universe (AU)**. The prompt was _What If?_ , and I've combined it with _86\. “You’re important too.”_ from the [100 ways to say I love you](https://lire-casander.tumblr.com/post/613502094751776768/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you) prompt list from a while ago.
> 
> I wouldn't be posting this today without the incredibly talented [Meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloingly/profile), the fastest beta at either side of any ocean in the whole world. I finished writing this on Sunday morning, and she'd had it read and done by Sunday night. Everyone go send her tons of love! All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title comes from a quote by Massimo, out of the movie script..
> 
> I don't own anything. Characters and some lines and situations you might recognize are all Fox's, Columbia Pictures' or Sony Pictures'.

They’re stepping into the elevator in one of the highest skyscrapers in the neighborhood when TK feels like he can’t keep this secret any longer. He thinks he’s going to burst if he doesn’t say a word; he thinks his father will know anyway just by looking at him, so he goes for the fall as the metallic doors close behind them and his father looks up at the elevator ceiling with a sigh.

It’s not an everyday task that Captain Owen Strand, from Station 252 in Brooklyn, chooses to take on a call to rescue some worker who’s slipped from his scaffold and is now hanging off a few cords from the roof of Brooklyn Point.

TK shakes his head, trying to gather enough courage to speak up, when his father beats him to it. “What’s wrong, TK? I can tell you’re nervous.”

“I’m gonna ask Alex to marry me, tonight,” he blurts out. He sighs in relief once the words have left his mouth, but he’s not indifferent to his father tensing up by his side. “Dad, please don’t say anything negative, alright? I already bought the ring.”

“How about moving in together first?”

TK groans, rubbing a hand over his face instead of raking it through his hair, given that his helmet is in the way. “Grand gestures, right? Isn’t that what you always say? Big swings?”

“I’ve also been divorced twice.”

TK can’t argue against that — after his mother, his father married off one of the nurses at the Brookdale Hospital Medical Center, and it lasted three years before she ran off the opposite way, very much like TK’s mother. “Why don’t you feel happy about this?”

“Can’t I just voice my worries, TK?” his father says then, frowning at him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You two don’t even live together, and that’s a good way to get to know each other.”

“What do you mean?” TK refrains himself from shouting, but his words come out clipped and stranded. They’re not surrounded by the rest of their team, but TK doesn’t want to give the impression that there are cracks in the chain of command, because whatever the team understands from how much or how little they hear through their radios — the way the elevator is built preventing any kind of signal, even those specific of Emergency services — is what they will tease TK for. Heʼs got enough teasing for being the Captainʼs son as it is. He doesn’t want to look like he’s rebelling against his captain, even though right now Captain Strand is acting more like Pops Strand while on duty. “Do you mean we don’t know each other? I know Alex like the back of my hand.”

“This is not the place to talk about this,” his father tells him in a curt tone. 

“You shouldn’t have started telling me off in the middle of a shift,” TK reminds him.

Owen shakes his head at him. “Neither is a shift the place to drop-bomb that you’re going to propose to your boyfriend of four years that you break up with every few months. Didn’t you have a crisis four or five months ago?”

TK purses his lips. The elevator reaches its destination and the doors open, revealing an empty hallway and a door by the end of it. He knows their comms have been a bit off-kilt the entirety of their lift to the roof, but they’re supposed to get them back on any time now. He has little time before the team finds out theyʼre not discussing the different ways to rescue the worker they’re here for. He whispers, “That’s a low blow, Dad.”

“I’m worried about you,” Owen states simply. There’s a noise cracking through the radio, so he reaches for it and speaks straight into the microphone, voice steady. “Captain Strand here. We’re about to enter the roof.”

“Copy, Captain,” comes a voice, ragged because of the static. 

“Let’s talk after we save this poor man hanging off the roof,” Owen offers with half a smile, but TK knows that his father doesn’t feel happy. 

Owen Strand has never liked any of his boyfriends, but his hatred of Alex has gone beyond reasonable within the past four years, reaching a point where neither Owen nor Alex could stand being left alone in the same room for a long period of time. TK always wanted them to get along, but sometime after their hundredth failed attempt at having a civil conversation over dinner he stopped trying. 

TK just wants his father to be proud of him. He knows heʼs been a disappointment to both his parents, for different reasons, but his fatherʼs opinions hurt him the most. It’s not that he doesn’t take his motherʼs thoughts to heart, it’s more that he looks up at his father for the human being he is, and therefore failing at his eyes is more hurtful than it is not living up to his motherʼs standards. Gwyneth had kept her ex-husbandʼs last name after the divorce; TK has always believed his mother was a fighter, always ready to take over the world, and she certainly had proved it in court. Unfortunately for TK, her bravery never lasts enough for her to fight for her child. 

He still remembers the day he woke up in the hospital, disoriented and sore all over, to the sight of his parents sitting at each side of his bed. They were having the kind of argument that can be hold without screaming, but TK felt every whispered jab like a stab to his chest. Gwyneth had blamed Owen for never being around while TK was growing up — first when the towers fell, later when his teammates started getting sick from exposure to different substances. She had accused Owen of being too busy saving everyoneʼs lives that he didn’t see his own son trapped in a spiral of self-destruction. Gwyneth had been unstoppable, a predator circling its prey, and Owen had remained silent. She hadnʼt acknowledged her own blindness about TKʼs problems, and his father hadnʼt called her on it either. 

That had been the first time TK had felt like a failure in his parentsʼ eyes. 

“TK, you with me?” his father calls onto him, shaking him from his memories. “I know youʼre excited about tonight, but letʼs focus on saving this man.” 

“New York Fire! We’re here to help,” his father hollers as they step closer to the edge, the metallic structure of the ventilation system creating a symphony under the wind. TK follows his father, grasping the metal tubes for balance, and looks down over the edge, only to see a man swinging along with the wind, crying out for help. It’s not worse than he thought — the man is conscious and he seems to be focused — but this is going to be one hell of a rescue.

“God, I love New York,” his father sighs. TK can’t agree more.

They make quick work of the cables, and set to rescue the man trapped in thin air. They’ve probably broken a few records with this rescue — at least for the quickest one ever in these conditions. Sooner than TK can even imagine they’re back on the ground floor, and he has to face the real issue distracting him this morning before they get back on the truck.

“So, uh, you gonna tell me what you really think about this proposal, or are you just gonna keep pretending that you don’t have an opinion?” TK is giving his father an out, because he knows that Owen does have an opinion about Alex and this plan TK has for the rest of his life, but he’s trying to get his father on board with it.

“You’re an adult, you think it’s right. I say go for it.”

“Really?” There’s a hint of hope in TK’s voice, even if he knows his father is just telling him that he’s agrees out of his own desire to keep TK happy. 

“Yeah,” Owen says.

TK bites down on his lip, this battle won although he still has a war to fight with this particular issue — Alex and Owen, his soon-to-be-husband and his always-will-be-father — and he leans in for a hug as he whispers, “Thanks, Dad.”

Owen begins coughing into the hug, but TK doesn’t think any of it. Spring is beginning these days, and allergies are acting up. He arches an eyebrow at his father, who dismisses him with a wave of his hand and tells him, “I’m happy for you, son.”

And that’s all TK needs to keep him going for the rest of the day before the bell signaling the end of their shift blares off and they are free to get ready to go home.

TK jumps into the shower at the station with a smile on his face, eager to get ready for the most important date of his life. He gets quickly dressed but spends almost half an hour styling his hair — McKenzie jokes that it takes him longer to stylish his hair than to cross Brooklyn Bridge during rush hour, and everyone agrees that _that’s_ the reason why TK is always late for work. He brushes their jabs easily, already used to them treating him like he’s a snob from Manhattan. That’s the image he projects, anyway.

“I’m so not listening to you, you bunch of heathens,” TK tells them as he slips his jacket on over his plain white t-shirt, the weight of the velvet box he’s hidden in the inside pocket tethering him to the ground. He quickly takes it from its hiding place and puts it in his right pocket. “I’m off for night date!”

“Give Alex our regards!” McKenzie calls after him, Jones and Martinez making mocking smooching sounds as he walks away. 

TK doesn’t want to allow anything to put a damper to his enthusiasm. Tonight’s going to be perfect, just how he’s always envisioned it, and if everything goes according to plan he’ll come back home with a fiancé instead of a boyfriend. And he’s pretty sure he hasn’t misread the signals — he’s sure that Alex will say yes, and they will dive into planning the happiest day of their lives straight away.

That will probably be the only _straight_ thing going on for them, anyway.

He chuckles at his own joke. 

The streets of New York seem brighter while he walks through the crowds, waiting impatiently at the traffic lights for them to turn green, his fingers closing around the box as his nerves spike up. He uses the time in between the red and the green on checking his attire — the in-fashion trousers that end up right above the ankles, the white sneakers that he’s managed to keep pristine in the dirty streets of the city. When he reaches the restaurant, a few blocks away from the station, he’s reeling from his own nervousness. He doesn’t recall being led to the table he’s reserved or waiting for Alex to come.

He only registers the moment the entrance door swings open and allows Alex inside — that jacket hugging his shoulders, the checkered shirt with just the two top buttons undone, the trousers all too fitting — before he stands up and greets his boyfriend with a light peck on the lips and a hug.

“This is nice,” Alex points out. TK chuckles nervously. He’s chosen this restaurant because they have peeked through the windows more than once, wondering what kind of food they would serve, how the tablecloths would feel under their fingertips. 

“Yeah, I wanted some place really nice,” he tells his boyfriend. He fidgets with the hem of the tablecloth before diving into the abyss of what he’s trying to do here.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he begins. Alex leans in, hands in a tight knot over the table, and that simple gesture is enough to make TK even more nervous; he’s borderline hysterical now. “Should I?”

There’s a glint in Alex’s eyes that TK can’t decipher, but he chooses to ignore it — ignore the alarms blaring off in his mind — and goes straight to the point. After all, he really, _really_ , wants to start this dinner with the dessert.

TK is late for work the next morning.

He rushes into the station with his shirt half-buttoned and one of the pockets of his jeans turned outside. McKenzie and Martinez wolf-whistle when he skids through the locker room, making quick work of taking off his civilian clothes and putting on his uniform. He’s not even finished buttoning his shirt when he hears his father calling for him, “TK! Come over to my office!”

He huffs, rushing to the Captain’s office and ducking McKenzie’s attempt to ruffle his hair. He takes a second to try and smooth the wrinkles in his uniform before politely knocking on the door and waiting for his father to grant him access. When he’s allowed in, he’s surprised to find his father isn’t alone in his office.

“TK, let me introduce you to Beth Healy, from the Department of Justice,” his father says as the two people sitting with him stand up. The woman on TK’s left smiles softly and stretches out her hand, which TK shakes, briefly glancing at his father for an explanation. “And Deputy Fire Chief Alden Radford, from Austin, Texas,” his father continues, ignoring TK’s muffled surprised yelp. The man on his right shakes his hand as well.

TK wonders what can possibly bring a Deputy Fire Chief all the way from redneck Austin to cosmopolitan New York City. And more importantly, what can said Deputy Fire Chief wants from his father. 

“Take a seat, son,” his father instructs, and TK obeys. He’s slipped into firefighter mode, forgetting about his role as son and about his own happy news to share. “Our guests were talking about some interesting things. They’ve specially requested you to come in.”

“Really?” TK can’t help himself from saying. He clears his throat at his father’s glare, and tries again. “I’m flattered. How can I be of help?”

“I believe that you both are aware of the tragedy that happened in our department?” Chief Radford begins. Both Strand men nod.

Bad news spread fast in their universe. Station 126 from Austin had been wiped out in an explosion at a factory, with only one survivor, Judson Ryder, six months ago. The station has been closed ever since. But for the looks of it, it seems they won’t be closed much longer.

“I’m very sorry,” his father says, and TK voices his condolences.

“We want you to come down to Texas and do for Austin what you did here,” Chief Radford offers matter-of-factly, with the certainty of those who believe they’re not going to be rejected. “No one has ever built an entire house from scratch before.”

“But you have, Captain, after—” Beth cues in, trailing off before talking about the biggest tragedy in their history.

TK balls his hands into fists at his sides to keep him from jumping in. He remembers being seven and missing his father while he worked to save thousands of lives while the towers burned and fell. He remembers being eight and finding out he was lucky because he was the only kid in the entire 252 family who still had a father. He remembers being ten and watching her mother kicking his father out of their shared apartment. He remembers being seventeen and failing, failing, failing. He remembers that the attack stole a lot more from him than what he lets out on the surface.

TK misses a part of the conversation following, too lost in his own thoughts to catch up on everything, but he comes back to reality in time to hear Chief Radford saying, “We need someone like you. An outsider who truly understands how much rebuilding this house is gonna heal the community.” Chief Radford turns to TK in that moment. “And we think that you could use the help of the only firefighter ever under twenty to become first in his promotion.”

His father looks at him, but TK doesn’t want to meet his eyes. He knows where this is leading, he knows that once his father makes up his mind, he’ll have to tag along because Owen Strand always pulls the card of Captain before the card of father, and TK has no option but to obey. It won’t matter that he’s just got engaged. It won’t matter that his life is now tied to New York. It won’t matter that he has another person to make decisions with.

He’s most and foremost a firefighter, and he has to follow orders. 

He isn’t surprised when his father tells him, a few days later, that he’s accepted their offer for the both of them. He braces himself for Alex raising Cain when he tells him.

What he isn’t expecting is for Alex to willingly tell him that it is a great opportunity for growth, that he won’t go up the chain of command in New York, and that rebuilding a firehouse is exactly what they need. A change in scenery. A change of pace.

A new place to call home and become a family of their own.

Although he’s a bit suspicious of the easiness with which his fiancé accepts this new situation — Alex has always been an urbanite, always ready to discover the finest spots in Manhattan, always dismissive of the country life — TK decides not to read too much into it. Alex tells him that he needs a few weeks to settle everything down in his job, ask for a transfer to Austin — he promises it wonʼt be long because after all he can work from anywhere — and TK chooses to believe him even though heʼs going to miss his fiancé so much. It’s going to take him a while to get used to that word, _fiancé_. 

He’s excited to start a new life in a new place with the person he considers to be his soulmate.

Plus, he’s heard that there are nice venues in Austin where a couple can get married.

* * *

“This is beautiful, Carlos,” Michelle praises him when she sees the sketch for the Merryton wedding, an explosion of baby pinks and dark purples heʼs spent the past three weeks working on. “Bree is going to love it. This is exactly what she asked for.” 

He smiles warmly at his best friend before placing the sketches into their folder, neatly ordered by date. “Thanks,” he says. “I just went on with the vibes I could feel from both Bree and Dana.” 

“Nonsense,” Michelle shakes her head. “You’re the best wedding planner in the whole county, Carlos. I just wish you could see it. You always sell yourself short.” 

Carlos sinks back down into his chair, further away from Michelle, whoʼs now staring at him with a soft smile in her lips. “You donʼt have anything else to do today, right?” she asks, although Carlos knows she already knows his answer. She knows his calendar better than he does 

“You already know I don’t,” he confirms. “But the answer is no.” 

“You donʼt know what I was about to propose!” 

Her complaint falls into deaf ears as he continues to shake his head. “Iʼm not going to the bar with you, Michelle. You know that.” 

“This calls for celebration!” she exclaims.“Breeʼs going to love it, and she’s going to recommend us to all her friends. Letʼs just go out tonight. Just this once, Carlos. It isn’t the same without you.” 

He has to bite down on a snarky remark. He knows for a fact — namely all the gossip Iris always tells him every Monday after a weekend full of work on his part — that Michelle has fun without him around. He has the feeling that she has _more_ fun on her own than with him. 

“Iʼm tired, Michelle,” he tries to worm his way out of it, but today Michelle is having none of his nonsense. 

“Iʼll pick you up at eight,” she tells him, tone final. 

“I can drive on my own, thank you very much.” 

“That I know,” Michelle agreed with him. “But you wonʼt come unless I force you into the car, and I canʼt do it if youʼre driving your Camaro.” 

Carlos sighs. “I won’t dress up,” he warns with a finger pointed in her general direction. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she counteracts cheerfully, standing up and moving toward the door of his office. “Eight sharp!” she reminds him before exiting the room and leaving him alone with his sketches, his folders and his memories. 

Carlos looks out of the window, into the vastness thatʼs Parque Zaragoza. He thinks briefly that Iris lucked out when she managed to snatch the space from the hands of a greedy investor, a few years back, to turn the old garage into one of the best showcases for wedding planning in Austin. Carlos knows he should be grateful that life had given him a second chance to find his ground after the debacle from five years before, but he canʼt help feeling melancholic about his old life. Going to that bar today, the hope of seeing his old crew mixed with the fear of being hit with a wave of _want_ he wonʼt be able to fight. He’s been struggling with his own thoughts about leaving the police corps the way he did — after everything that happened back then, after watching Rodgers bleeding out on the floor, after the insinuation that he had failed because he was _weak_ , Carlos hadnʼt had any desire to remain in the precinct. Heʼd given up his gun and his badge, and heʼd walked away. 

There was still a plate in the precinct remembering Jeremiah Rodgers, fallen in action, but there was no mention of the officer who risked his own life trying to save his partnerʼs even if it had been too late for that when heʼd finally reached safe ground. 

With a start, Carlos realizes heʼs been lost in his memories for too long, and itʼs almost time for him to go back home to get ready. Michelle will give him hell if heʼs late, and he doesn’t want to risk Iris mocking him the entire night. He grabs his car keys and his wallet from the first drawer in his desk and walks out. 

Michelle is punctual as always, honking away in front of his apartment building. Carlos rushes out and hops into the truck, sandwiching Iris between himself and her sister, and steadies himself for whatʼs to come. 

He feels dizzy by the time they reach the bar, his heart beating hard and fast inside his chest. Michelle lands a reassuring hand on the small of his back, ready to catch him. “Breathe deep, Reyes,” she tells him. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” he mutters. “Iʼve been doing good. I donʼt need to go in and prove anything to anyone.” 

“This isnʼt about proving anything to _them_ ,” Michelle whispers while Iris saunters inside the bar without waiting for them. “They turned their backs on you because you were different. They spread lies about you. This isnʼt about them at all, Carlos,” she insists. “You have to stop living with the fear of becoming what they think you are.” 

“What if I am?” he counteracts softly. He’s wondered that for some time now — what if heʼs actually weak, what if Jeremiah died because he wasnʼt fast enough, strong enough, what if everything that happened was Carlosʼ fault for being distracted by Rodgersʼ features that he had missed their cue. What if Jeremiah had been equally distracted and theyʼd ended up caught in a crossfire that had only left devastation in its wake. 

“I donʼt want you to keep living with that burden,” Michelle insists. “Itʼs been five years, Carlos.” 

“You remembered,” the accusation falls easily from his lips. Of course Michelle remembers the date, the anniversary of the moment he lost everything that mattered to him in just one swift trick of fate — his job, his family and his soulmate in just one night. 

“You have every right to toast in his honor,” Michelle sighs. “Thatʼs what he would have wanted, and you know it.” 

Carlos nods, convinced feebly that he can do it. He can face his demons tonight. Jeremiah would have wanted it. “For Jemmy,” he steels himself into walking toward the door, one feet in front of the other, until Michelle pushes the door open and heʼs stepping into the bar where he knows he hasnʼt been welcome in five years. 

At first the loud noise deafens him, but soon he notices that the silence broads as they close the distance between the entrance and the table where Iris is waiting for them, surrounded by Michelleʼs old crew from Station 126. He refuses to let his eyes wander from Irisʼ hand waving at them, trying to ignore the whispers that follow him, biting into his soul as his steps echo the words, _murderer_ , _murderer_ , _murderer_ , _murderer_. 

Michelle doesn’t let go of his shirt, tethering him to the ground with her soft touch, until they reach the table and Rosewater, Michelleʼs old partner, pushes a beer his way. He accepts it and tips the bottle when Rosewater chirps out, “Iʼm glad you could make it, Reyes.” 

He discovers with a startled realization that he is, too. 

The whispers dwindle down as the night progresses; Carlos drinks a couple more beers and begins to relax when Michelle elbows him. “What?” he asks easily, turning to her. “You can always talk to me, no need to refurnish my intestines.”

“Prowellʼs coming.” Her whisper resounds in his brain. Carlos finds himself frozen in his spot, fingers trembling around his beer. 

“Reyes,” Prowell growls as he reaches their table. “I would have never thought youʼd have the guts to come here today of all days.” 

“Why donʼt you go back to the cave where you came from, Prowell?” a voice cuts through the tense air surrounding them. Carlos turns around to see Judd Ryder standing in the middle of the bar, still holding his wifeʼs hand, a threatening eyebrow arched. “No one wants to hear your slur tonight.” 

“Why donʼt you mind your own business, Ryder?” Prowell snarls. Carlos only wants to crawl under the table and hide forever. “Arenʼt you supposed to be sucking up to the new Captain to give you your old job back?” 

“You son of a—” Judd growls, only to be interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and a man Carlos has never seen before stepping in. 

“Is there any problem here, gentlemen?” the stranger intervenes. Carlos knows he should be paying attention to that man, but heʼs entranced by the young man with the impossibly green eyes staying behind Judd with his arms crossed. 

“I was just telling Prowell here to gently step back and leave, Captain.” 

“I guess Prowell,” _Captain_ says in a steel voice, “is already leaving.” 

“Yes, Captain Strand,” Prowell mutters, retreating to his corner after shooting Carlos a death glare. 

_Captain Strand_ , Carlos repeats in his mind. Even after five years, he still gets some information through the grapevine — mainly through the Blake sisters, who still keep some good friendships from the old times — and he’s aware that Captain Owen Strand has come to Austin to rebuild Station 126. Carlos also knows that heʼs given Judd his old job back eight and a half months after the accident. 

The man by his side must be his son, Carlos understands, the resemblance striking. Rumor has it that TK Strand was the first firefighter in his promotion, and the same rumor spreads that heʼs followed his father down to Texas to give the 126 an air of novelty and diversity never heard before.

And he has Carlosʼ complete attention the moment those deep green eyes meet his in a glance that sets his whole body on fire. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, not able to tear his gaze apart from the young Strand. 

“Iʼm so happy youʼre here,” Grace Ryder tells him, breaking the suddenly awkward silence and tugging him into a hug. Carlos can see from the corner of his eye that Prowell and his gang are staring at them with disgust painted on their faces. “Forget about them. All bark and no bite. They wonʼt do anything.” 

Carlos nods. He leans into Graceʼs warm embrace, her perfume driving him into a sensitive overdrive. He steps back and coughs discreetly. His allergies are going to kill him some day, but at least tonight heʼs going to try and have fun despite the situation. He sits back, Michelle making sure heʼs not facing Prowell and his friends — who used to be Carlosʼ friends as well — and brings his beer up to his lips. The conversation around him resumes, everyone sharing stories from old times. He listens as Michelle jabs at Tim for something that happened during their first shift together, before she had to leave her dream of saving people behind. He listens as Judd laughs, a sound that he thought heʼd never hear again. 

“Captain Strand is good for him,” Grace confesses in a low voice, startling Carlos. “I thought Iʼd lose him, Carlos.”

“I know,” he says, squeezing her hand. He’s been friends with the Ryders for what feels like forever, his old job making him run into Judd so often that theyʼd ended up hanging out after hours as well. “Iʼm so happy for you.” 

“Itʼs a long-distance race,” she quips. “You know that better than anyone.” Carlos nods, but he doesn’t say anything. “Iʼm really proud of you.” She squeezes his hand back with a soft smile before Judd steals her for a dance. 

Carlos looks at them, happy for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, and wonders if he’ll ever get to have that — that feeling of _belonging_ , of just being himself with someone else in the way he’d felt whenever he was with Jeremiah. When he turns his head around to watch the rest of their group dancing, his eyes are met with that deep green gaze that seems to cut right to his soul.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” TK Strand says. “I’m TK, by the way. I work with Judd at the 126.”

“Oh, I know,” Carlos blurts out. “I’m Carlos.”

TK smirks at him. Carlos notices he’s drinking mineral water, the bottle twirling in his hands, catching the glinting lights inside of the bar. “You friends with Judd?”

“I’ve known him for a long time. Austin’s a small town,” Carlos explains. “Michelle used to work with them at the station, as a paramedic. I guess we’re just a big gang that likes to hang out from time to time.”

“It looks like you’ve been missing out,” TK points out, setting the bottle on the table. “I’ve been here for about a month and a half, and it’s the first time I’ve seen you.”

“Been busy,” Carlos feels the need to excuse himself to this complete stranger. He doesn’t like the way those green eyes turn sad, clouded with an understanding that he’s not used to be directed at him from people who aren’t his friends.

“I see,” TK whispers. “I’m sorry that man made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s an old wound,” Carlos shakes his head. “So I hear youʼve come down from the big city,” he continues, attempting for a lighter mood. “Howʼre you liking it in Texas?” 

TK laughs, and Carlos thinks he has never heard such a sound. It’s uplifting in ways Carlos hasnʼt thought heʼd ever feel again — like the weight heʼs got pressing against his chest has diminished. 

“Iʼm liking it alright,” TK assures him, tipping his bottle toward him in a mock-toast. “It definitely just got more interesting.” 

Maybe itʼs Jeremiahʼs memory pushing him, maybe itʼs the alcohol he has already ingested, maybe itʼs the invitation he can see in TKʼs eyes. Maybe itʼs simply that he needs to speak his mind, but Carlos finds himself boldly offering, “Dʼyou want to dance?” 

He waits a beat, pondering how long a wait needs to be before deemed too long, when TK beams at him and replies, “Yeah.” 

Line dancing is meant for people like him, Carlos realizes as he leads the way to the dance floor where his friends are already showing off their skills — no touching required if he doesn’t want it, but to him it feels oddly intimate. He’s able to gauge his counterpartʼs reactions and to decide for himself if he can take a leap of faith. It worked with Jeremiah. 

For the looks of it, it might be working with TK, too. 

Michelle is laughing somewhere behind him, and before he can turn around to check on her, he feels a push forward at the same time as he sees a commotion behind TK that launches him straight into Carlosʼ arms. He holds on tight, fingers clutching toned abs and one arm steading TK around his waist. There’s virtually no space left between them; Carlos holds his breath as those big green eyes plead him to lean in, in, _in_. 

His gaze doesn’t stray from TKʼs, a hint of something he canʼt decipher luring him in. He’s almost touching those plush lips, half-opened in an invitation when the same commotion from before intensifies and the loud voices startle them. 

“Get off me!” 

“Donʼt touch her!” 

“You filthy—” 

The officers and first responders present in the bar rush to break the fight brewing in one corner. Even Michelle and Iris try to help. But not Carlos, whoʼs glued to his spot in the middle of the dance floor, arms still stretched out as though holding TKʼs frame. 

He feels his heart pounding erratically in his chest, his breath catching in his throat, and the images of a gunshot wound bleeding purplish-red flood his mind. Carlos manages to make his way out of the bar without getting near the brawl that’s already under control, and he stumbles into a dark back alley where he collapses onto the floor, his back against a wall as he reigns himself in. 

“Oh, Carlos,” he hears, unaware of how much time has passed. When he looks up, Michelle and Iris are standing a few feet from him, their silhouettes towering over him. “Cʼmon, letʼs go. Weʼll take you home.” 

Carlos nods shakily and allows Iris to pull him up and into her embrace, before falling into step with them — right, left, right, left, faltering, left, faltering — as they walk to Michelleʼs car. 

With his forehead against the window, the coolness of the glass perspiring through his skin, Carlos wonders if heʼll ever be normal again.

* * *

TK’s late to his appointment, and he knows Alex is going to kill him. It’s his signature trait, tardiness, but he promised he’d be on time today of all days. Alex has been in Austin for two weeks now, and he’s finally secured an appointment with the best wedding planners in the whole county, _Say Yes_ , who coincidentally have a _Queer Weddings_ division that’s the best ranked in different webpages. Getting an appointment with them with so little notice is really difficult, and Alex has insisted TK be on time.

To his defense, he has to say that it hasn’t been his fault. He’s been delayed at the station, some paperwork he needed to turn in, and then Marjan has brought to his attention that Mateo was having a bad time with his exams so he’s got to stay behind and try to cheer the probie up. He’s missed his two alarms, and now he’s got trapped in a traffic jam and he’s about to jump out of his Uber when the car begins to move once again. 

“I’m already late,” he informs the driver. “Isn’t there another route?”

“This is the fastest, even with this traffic,” the driver tells him, eyes never leaving the road. TK sighs.

“Fine,” he murmurs, checking in his phone just how far he is from his destination. When he finds out that he’s just a few blocks away, he looks up from the device and tells the driver, “I’m getting out here.”

Maybe if he runs these last few blocks he’ll only be slightly late.

He sees the sign announcing the office from almost a mile away, the bright blue of the neon looking out of place on the side of a park. He’s short of breath when he reaches the entrance; he takes a moment to compose himself, checking that all the buttons of his shirt are in place and making sure his hair isn’t spiked everywhere as he looks at his reflection on the window glass. He checks his wristwatch as well. 

“Only fifteen minutes late,” he mutters to himself, threading his fingers through his hair once more before pushing the door open and sauntering to the reception where a woman with dark long hair is busying herself with something on a computer. The woman looks eerily familiar, but TK blames it on his brain trying to catch up on being in a new place — he’s been seeing familiar faces for the almost three months he’s been living in Austin. To be honest with himself, of he’s ever going to be, TK knows he’s been looking for a specifically familiar face — olive skin, deep eyes, bright smile — that he can’t shake off his memory.

He has to get rid of that, he knows so much, mainly because he’s about to enter a meeting about his own wedding, so he can’t afford to be thinking of someone else when his fiancé is inside a room probably waiting impatiently for him to show up. TK doesn’t even know Carlos’ last name; he’s only shared a conversation and a dance with Carlos, but he’s felt more at ease in Carlos’ presence within a few minutes than he was in Alex’s for over a year. There’s something _homely_ in the way Carlos allowed him into his world, even if he’d disappeared when that brawl had broken off. TK has felt comfortable with him. And he’s been thinking about that dance for over three weeks now.

“Hello,” he says as he approaches the receptionist. “My name’s TK Strand. I have an appointment with—” He trails off when he gets closer and takes a proper look at the receptionist.

She’s Iris Blake, one of Judd’s friends that goes with them to the bar after their shifts. She was there the night he met Carlos.

“Iris?”

“TK?” Iris seems confused. “Welcome to _Say Yes_! Did you say you have an appointment?” She doesn’t miss a beat, clicking away on her keyboard and pulling up a few documents for the beeping sounds coming from the computer. “I didn’t know you were engaged.”

“My fiancé’s Alex Hunderling,” he explains. “He should already be in there.”

TK doesn’t miss the panicked look that crosses Iris’ face when he speaks, but he almost has no time to react before Iris schools her features. There’s a muffled sound somewhere down a hallway TK can see from where he’s standing now, a door opening, and then there’s Alex coming out of a room. 

“TK! I was about to call you, where were you?” he says, stomping his foot on the ground like a child. TK used to find it endearing, but right now he has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something’s definitely not good, and his instincts are screaming at him to turn around and run in the opposite direction. 

But Alex has started to move, wiggling his fingers at him, so he doesn’t really have an escape. “C’mere, I want to introduce you to our brand new wedding planner,” Alex keeps saying . TK takes a few tentative steps his way when there’s a ruffle behind his fiancé and Alex turns around. “Oh, TK’s already here. I told you, he’s never in time for anything. That’s why I think we should treat him like the bride in our wedding.”

“As I was telling you, Alex, here we like to think about the—” 

The man that steps out of the meeting room has tanned skin and a bright smile, and he’s exactly how TK remembers him from their single dance at the bar from three weeks ago.

“TK, this is Carlos Reyes, our wedding planner. He’s organized so many amazing queer weddings, I’m sure you’re going to love what he’s got in stock for us!” Alex says excitedly, but TK feels like he’s underwater. 

Carlos is here. Carlos is the wedding planner Alex has hired after searching for weeks. The same Carlos who shared more than a dance with TK. He’s been going over what happened in his head for the past three weeks — replaying it over and over again, trying to understand what the fleeting feeling in his stomach was every time he remembered Carlos’ eyes boring a hole into his soul.

“TK?” Carlos asks, sounding as confused as TK feels. “What are you—”

“Do you know each other?” Alex questions, frowning. “How come do you know each other?”

“Austin is a small town,” TK parrots the words he’s heard not so long ago. “He’s friends with Michelle Blake, I’ve told you about her. The woman at the reception is her sister, Iris.”

“We’ve seen each other once,” Carlos tells Alex in a professional tone. “I’m not one to step into Austin’s nightlife.”

“That’s an understatement,” Michelle quips in, exiting a different office from across the hallway, seemingly attracted by the noise. Even Iris has stepped out of her reception desk and is now standing a few feet from them. “Carlos hadn’t partied in years when we managed to take him out that night. TK,” she continues, blinking deliberately at him, “I didn’t know you were engaged. I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Thanks,” Alex says, eyeing suspiciously at TK who just shrugs.

“Carlos,” Michelle looks at her friend. TK is afraid of what her next words would be — she had witnessed how they had interacted that night, TK is sure that she had the same impression that he did. And that feeling has been scaring him off for nights on end, waking him up in sweats and shivers, as he tries to understand what it means. No matter how much he circles around the issue, he always comes down with the same idea over and over again, but it’s a wrong fact. It has to be.

He can’t be attracted to Carlos. He’s already in love with Alex. He proposed to Alex. He wants to spend his life with Alex. There’s no place for Carlos in it, except for the fact that he’s the wedding planner Alex has hired.

Given the way that Carlos is looking pained under the scrutiny of TK’s gaze, TK thinks it’s going to be as painful for Carlos as it is for him already. But he has to be neutral. He loves Alex.

He just needs to remember that.

“Congratulations,” Carlos says in an impersonal voice, so different from the one TK hears in his dreams. “Do you want to join us inside?” he offers, gesturing toward the room he’s just emerged from. “I was about to show Alex some examples of wedding cakes that might suit your desires.”

“Yeah, for sure,” TK agrees. He reaches out to grab Alex’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Alex shoots him a weird look, but he says nothing. “I’m dying to hear all about those ideas of yours that have Alex so head over heels for your work.”

Two hours and a massive headache later, TK leaves the office holding hands with Alex but feeling emptier inside than heʼs ever been. Heʼs sat through a horrible experience, watching Carlos guarded off and professional as he talked about venues and services and fees, while Alex dismisses every mention of money. TK is beginning to worry about how much this is going to cost them, but he doesn’t voice any doubt because he knows that would upset his fiancé. 

“Thank you very much for your time,” Alex is saying to Carlos once the meeting is over, and he has TKʼs hand safely in between his. “We will be seeing you next weekend to check on venues, then.” 

“I will have three or four options for you then,” Carlos assures them. TK wants to shake him out of the narcotic monotony in his drawl. “Here, have this,” he continues, handing a small crystal box to them. “This is an assorted selection of wedding songs. Youʼll need to find one for your first dance as husband and husband. We donʼt have much time, if you want to tie the knot in six weeks.” 

“I told you that moving up the date wasnʼt a wise idea,” TK mumbles. He’s still reeling from the argument they both had the night after Alex had finally moved into Austin — two months later, out of a sudden, demanding that they searched for their own place the second heʼd set foot in their house, proposing to get married sooner than expected. TK has never wanted to fight with Alex, so heʼs agreed to everything. 

Alex can be really scary when he’s mad. 

He’s never been violent, at least not toward TK. But TK has seen him growl at waiters when his order has been messed up — more times than TK can count — and he’s seen Alex’s hands ball into fists, ready to punch, when something doesn’t go his way. TK has witnessed as Alex screamed his way out of a fight, using his slightly bulkier frame to frighten his opponent. He’s heard Alex threaten people if they didn’t do as he says — TK has even been on the receiving end of that once, when he chose to meet a friend recently moved back to New York instead of going back home to sit there waiting for Alex to call after a long day at work.

“What are you thinking, TK?” Alex asks when they finally exit the office, TK’s hand looped loosely around his arm. “Didn’t you like the options Carlos gave us?”

“I really did,” TK tells him softly. He knows having his own opinion won’t have any effect on Alex unless they’re similar to his, so TK simply nods his assent. Actually, all of Carlos’ ideas were perfect for a couple like them — modern, hype, _cool_ — but noneappealed to TK. He doesn’t know why he’s having these troubling thoughts when it was his idea to get married. He was the one proposing, but to be honest with himself, it took him by surprise when Alex accepted right away. He’d expected Alex trying to convince him that it was too soon — as though four years weren’t enough to know that he wanted to spend his whole life with Alex — but what had surprised him most had been Alex’s willingness to ask for a transfer to Austin and move all the way down from Manhattan to a city that’s not at all as sophisticated as New York.

“Let’s hail a cab,” Alex suggests. “We won’t be on time for our next appointment if we don’t.”

“Our next appointment?” TK asks stupidly. He knows he should have known that, he knows maybe Alex has already told him, but he can’t be sure. Sometimes he just forgets things Alex tells him, and it gets Alex mad every single time, but that’s not something he can control apparently. “I’m sure you’ve told me, but refresh my memory. Where are we headed now, again?”

“You never pay attention to _anything_ I say,” Alex complains. He stops in the curb, a few feet from Carlos’ office. “You’re just lucky I love you, Tyler Kennedy.” TK cringes at the use of his full name, something he doesn’t like in the least and Alex is well aware of that, but he dismisses it with a soft chuckle. “Get used to that. You don’t really think our wedding officiant will use the shortened version of your name, do you?”

“No, I guess not,” TK whispers, shaking his head. 

“We’re meeting up with Mitchell. He knows this really great real estate agent who will show us some apartments in the best part of Austin.”

“I thought you liked the neighborhood we’re living in now,” TK dares to point out. He braces himself for Alex’s wrath, but it doesn’t come. “Who’s Mitchell, by the way?”

“I’ve already told you all about Mitchell,” Alex pouts at him. He’s got his arm stretched out, and one lime-colored vehicle halts next to them. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this color. TK,” he continues, “you never listen to me when I talk. Mitchell is my new spin cycle instructor, from the gym I found on my first week here.”

“Okay,” TK says, sliding into the back seat of the cab. “So, where are we headed?”

“I don’t know why you think I like the place we’re living in right now,” Alex says before giving the driver very precise instructions about where they were going and how to get there. That’s something Alex does all the time, something TK is yet to get comfortable with — telling people how to do their jobs isn’t how TK likes to go about his life, but it’s part of who Alex is. TK should love every part of his fiancé. 

“It’s a good neighborhood,” TK counteracts. “It’s calm, and nice, and we have nice neighbors.”

“It’s also so far from downtown it takes a whole morning to go somewhere fun, to start with. And it’s where your father lives. I thought we’d already talked about this,” Alex pinpoints. He leans back into the leather seat. “You have to stop him from controlling your whole life. You always end up doing what your father wants you to do. You became a firefighter to get in his good graces. You’ve followed him all the way down here. Hell, you’ve dragged _me_ down here, but I came willingly because I love you. The least you can do is give the places Mitchell’s friend is showing us a chance.”

TK sighs. He doesn’t want to fight with Alex, and he doesn’t want to get him mad in the back seat of a cab. He has to make a decision, and he has to do so fast, since Alex is looking at him with that gleam in his gaze, the one TK has grown to recognize and avoid.

He’s once again disappointing his fiancé.

“Okay, let’s go apartment hunting, then. I’m sure I’ll love everything they show us! But, most importantly, I will love it because I love you.”

Alex eyes him for a second, as though weighing TK’s words, and finally he smiles broadly. “I’m pretty sure you will, Tyler Kennedy.”

TK groans and rubs his hand all over his face. He’s never going to live down that, if Alex decides to keep calling him by his full name.

* * *

When Carlos steps into his dancing class, he can’t believe his bad luck. He’s had an already bad week, finding out on Tuesday that his new clients were the guy he’s got a massive crush on and his _fiancé_ , he doesn’t need more beating up from fate. 

He knew he should have canceled this week’s class, but Michelle and Iris have pushed him, saying he needs to blow off some steam and that dancing has always helped him. Carlos has had to agree, even though he didn’t want to at first, because dancing is the only activity that helps him stop thinking. So he’s grabbed his bag and his keys, and he’s driven all the way to Basil’s for his weekly salsa dance class. He’s even parked the Camaro almost in front of the building. He thought today would be a good day after all, even if it’s the eve of his dreaded meeting to visit venues with Alex Hunderling and his fiancé, who happens to be TK Strand.

He’s been such an idiot, thinking that TK was reciprocating his very evident crush. He’s been a fool, believing he could be _wanted_. He’s been anything but professional. Michelle has tried to convince him that he couldn’t have possibly known about TK, that no one knew he was engaged. She even talked to TK’s coworkers — his _family_ — and not even Judd knew about it. Apparently he hadn’t been screaming about it from the rooftops, but Marjan had told Iris that she wasn’t surprised — TK’s good looking, and a good boy. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that he’s taken.

It certainly surprised Carlos. He knows he hasn’t imagined the looks, the chemistry. He hasn’t made the smiles up. He hasn’t invented the flirty tone.

Carlos shakes his head before entering the building. He needs to have a clear mind to dance, so he tries to get rid of all the negative thoughts and strolls inside the building, only to run into the last person he’d thought he’d see today.

“TK?” he asks, anger bubbling up inside of him when he has to stop dead in his tracks before colliding against the other man. “What are you doing here?”

“Carlos!” 

“What are you doing here?” he repeats.

TK chuckles bashfully, and his next words come out gritted. “Alex wants me to learn to dance before the wedding. Says I have two left feet. Which is completely true, you know.”

“Well, I’ve seen you dance,” Carlos tells him. “I can assure you there’s room for improvement, but I didn’t think it was _that_ bad.”

“You don’t argue with Alex when he’s set his mind on something,” TK chuckles again. Carlos can tell there’s some undertone there, but he can’t put a finger on it. “Anyway, I’m here for a biweekly class. What are _you_ doing here?”

“You’re not the only one who wants to improve some moves, TK. Which I think it’s the only truth you’ve ever told me, right?”

He doesn’t mean to come off so harsh, but the words leave his mouth before he can control himself. Carlos sees the way TK recoils, as though punched, and he takes a little satisfaction at the sight. He wants to hurt TK the way TK has hurt him, and although the most rational part of his brain knows that nothing happened between them at the bar, Carlos has been pining over the green-eyed boys for three weeks now. He’s been so embarrassed by his behavior when the brawl broke, he’s been searching for excuses for it, in case he ran into TK once again. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, that TK could be seeing someone; that TK would be _engaged_.

Carlos felt that truth like a stab in the middle of the chest, and he forgot how to breathe for as long as that first meeting went. But now he has to get over it.

Apparently, lashing at TK was the way his heart has chosen to go.

“It’s the nickname I go by,” TK says. They’re still standing in the middle of the hallway, the door to the dance room open as people trickle in and out. Carlos doesn’t want to make a scene here. He really doesn’t.

He bites the bullet.

“I have a better nickname for you,” he spits out. “How about common, cheating, sleazy—”

“If you’re thinking—” TK tries to interrupt him, but Carlos is on a roll. He hasn’t felt this bad in a long time, and he shouldn’t get so worked up about a boy he met once at a bar, but he is.

“What I’m thinking involves a machete and a pair of pliers.”

TK shakes his head. “Maybe we could _not_ do this here?”

Carlos glares at him, but before he can retaliate Basil comes out of the room and crosses his arms at them. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you two should stop fighting and get into the class. I’m starting right now, and I don’t like tardiness.”

“Hear, TK?” Carlos snipes out. 

“That was uncalled for,” TK huffs out.

“Enough, you two,” Basil tells them off. “Inside, now. Grab your partner and dance!” He reaches out for both of them and before Carlos can realize it he’s being pulled into the room and pushed into TK’s arms. Or is it the other way around?

Carlos doesn’t have the time to reflect on that as he has to let go of his bag, thrown carelessly out in a corner of the class, and holds on to TK for their impromptu dance. 

There’s a lively bachata playing in the background, and it’s easy for Carlos to find the rhythm and follow it. He’s surprised when TK follows his lead nicely. It doesn’t add-up with the fact that he’s just stated that Alex wanted him to take dance classes because he can’t dance.

Carlos has wanted to ask why Alex isn’t here to take those lessons with TK, but he’s lost in the moment, in the feeling of having TK in his arms again, in the weight of those hands holding his, tethering him to this reality and making him soar at the same time.

They take a few steps along with the music when TK takes a deep breath and speaks. “That day at the bar—”

“What excuse are you making up now, TK? You were lonely? You were testing the waters? Having cold feet?”

“I was just out with my team, having a good time. I didn’t know you worked as a wedding planner, and I certainly didn’t know Alex would hire you. Alex hadn’t even moved to Austin yet!”

“Why didn’t you say you were engaged?” Carlos accuses him. “You could have, I wouldn’t have been offended. You led me on.”

“It wasn’t my intention. I was just there making new friends.”

Carlos is about to pop a vein, with all the anger that’s pent up inside of him. “Don’t dance around the issue. You didn’t say anything ‘cause you don’t wanna get married. I see it all the time.”

“You see what?” TK frowns at him, coming to a halt. Basil shows up behind them and pushes them back into motion again, but Carlos has already missed the beat and he ends up stepping onto TK’s toes. “Ouch!”

“You think you want to get married, but you don’t. You’re pitiful and confused, looking to get some hot pepper wherever you can.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I was the one who popped the question, you moron!”

“Yeah? Why did you dance with me, TK?”

“Why did TK dance with you?” the other man retaliates as they attack yet another music compass. “Let’s see. First of all, TK likes to dance, even if heʼs bad at it. TK was out with some friends, having some fun. TK said, _hey, you know what, dancing sounds good_. Plus he got an invitation.”

“Why is TK referring to himself in the third person?”

“What are you talking about?”

Carlos shakes his head. He takes a moment to look around, realizing that they’re alone in the middle of the dance floor, everyone else circling around them in awe. “Think you can double-talk your way out? Why did you accept my invitation to dance, TK?”

“It was just a dance,” TK says in a low voice. They’ve come closer while dancing, and Carlos can feel TK’s breathing on his neck. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Then why’d we almost kiss?”

There, Carlos has already said it out loud. He’s been thinking about it for some time now, the way they had almost kissed under the strobe lights of that bar full of first responders, and he hasn’t found an explanation for it, not when he’s already got all the answers — TK being engaged has shed some light to his doubts. He still doesn’t understand, though. He felt their connection. He _felt_ it.

“Carlos—” TK is beginning to say, only to be cut by Basil, who’s stopped the music. Everyone begins clapping.

“This lovely couple,” Basil says, approaching them and patting Carlos on the shoulder. “They have it. They know what it takes.”

Carlos shakes his head again. “We’re not—”

But Basil isn’t listening to them anymore, dismissing the class and shooing them all out. 

“Listen, Carlos,” TK tries again, but Carlos isn’t having any of it.

“I don’t want to listen to you, TK,” he cuts him off. Carlos doesn’t miss the way TK’s eyes become guarded at his sharp tone, and it pains him to even _think_ it’s his fault TK’s looking like a beaten puppy. “You’ve said enough. You’ve _done_ enough. You’re my client because your fiancé has hired my services. That’s all the interaction we’re ever going to have. I’ll help you with your wedding, and that will be all.”

TK hums sheepishly. 

“I’ll be meeting you two tomorrow at nine sharp at the address Alex gave me. We will tackle down some venues and you will have time to decide about them. I don’t expect to hear from you in a long time since it seems Alex is the one in charge of organizing the wedding,” he continues. “Just let me do my job, and I’ll be out of your hair. You’ll have the happy ending you’re so keen on having.”

“Carlos—”

“See you tomorrow, TK,” he says, tone final, as he walks out of the room and out of the building, forgetting the bag he’s let go of when he’s run into TK. He doesn’t look back until he’s inside his car, breathing heavily and fighting hot tears welling up in his eyes.

He rests his forehead against the leather of the steering wheel and does the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. When he finds himself calmer, he inserts the keys on their hole and ignites the car, driving away from everything. 

The next day, Carlos is waiting outside a huge house in one of Austinʼs suburbs. He hasnʼt slept well last night, after the incident with TK at the dance class, and heʼs almost slept through his two alarms, so he has just hopped outside without having styled his hair, which is now fighting him in the form of rebel curls hitting his forehead as he waits, leaning against his car, while checking out the house and the rest of the buildings next to it. It’s a nice neighborhood, the kind of place he grew up in. It makes him melancholic about old times, about his childhood and his family, before he came out to them and all hell broke loose. He doesn’t really want to think about it, not now that heʼs waiting on his clients to step out of the house and hop into his car. 

He has to remind himself they are just clients when the front door opens and Alex gets out, followed by his fiancé. TK is looking good, dressed in tight black jeans and a white shirt with a pattern Carlos canʼt make out from this distance. His hair is styled in a way that reminds Carlos of the men he always sees in magazines. 

“Nice car, Carlos!” Alex gushes with a smile. “TK, take note! This car I love!” 

TK chuckles. “Good morning, Carlos.” 

“Only three minutes late,” Carlos canʼt help but joke. “You’re upping your game here, Strand.” 

“Iʼve had to drag him out of bed,” Alex explains in a stage-whisper. “We had a long night. He came back from his dance class really hyped up, if you get what I mean.” 

Carlos does, and it makes him feel nauseated. “Letʼs go,” he says through a lump in his throat. He shouldn’t allow himself to be affected by those words — Alex and TK are, in fact, engaging in an adult relationship — but he canʼt help the way his stomach churns. “We have a few locations to hit today!” 

“About that,” Alex says as TK slides into the back seat. Alex takes the passengerʼs. “I hope you donʼt mind, but I have made a few adjustments. Iʼve made an appointment at Villa Antonia first thing. It looked beautiful on their website. I thought youʼd forgotten to add it to the list. There’s no way you couldʼve overlooked this beauty.” 

Carlos falters when he hears that name. He hasnʼt overlooked anything, he hasnʼt forgotten to add the name to their list. He just hasnʼt had the heart to come back there in five years, right after he vanished off the face of the Earth after Jeremiah, when he’d been left grasping for support as his whole world shattered. He let Michelle take care of everything, because he hadn’t even felt strong enough to attend Jeremiahʼs funeral. 

But he canʼt explain it to Alex and TK. He doesn’t want to bare his soul. So he puts on a fake smile in the hopes that neither of his clients notice, and says, “Fantastic. It’s a beautiful place. I canʼt believe I missed it.” 

“No harm, no foul,” Alex says gracefully. “Letʼs go!” 

Carlos enters his own car and starts it. He’s about to drive off when he feels TKʼs hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” 

Too much for not noticing. It makes Carlos oddly proud, to know that heʼs been seen, but he tamps down that feeling. TK is engaged, and heʼs driving him and his fiancé around to visit wedding venues. 

“Why wouldn’t he be, TK?” Alex intervenes. “Donʼt start acting weird now, please.” 

Carlos starts driving, the road almost deserted at this hour on a Saturday. Alex fiddles with the radio, not setting for anything. When they’re about ten minutes into the trip, he announces, “I think now it’s the best time to choose our wedding song, TK!” 

TK groans in the backseat, but if Carlos has learned anything about Alex these past days is that no one can stop him when he’s into force of nature mode. 

“Do you have the compilation I gave you?” he asks gently. “Maybe we can play it and you can choose from it. I can help, as well.” He tells himself that itʼs his job, but there’s a pang in his chest when he thinks that heʼs helping TK finding the song for his first dance as Alex’s husband. 

“Here!” Alex says cheerful, as he inserts the CD into the radio and waits for the music to begin. The first few songs are met with either indifference or dismissal, and Carlos canʼt help but notice that Alex never allows TK to finish whatever idea or opinion he has on the songs, always cutting him off. 

When Olivia Newton-John comes up next, Carlos wants to gag. He has an ongoing bet with Iris and Michelle about this song — he believes that the couple who choose it only last three months married. He’s yet to lose this game so far. 

“Oh. My. God,” Alex flails.“I love this song!” he songs some of the words out of key, turns around to check that TK isn’t nodding off instead of listening to him, and says, “I think itʼs perfect, isn’t it?”

“It is,” TK agrees. Carlos huffs out a laugh that he tries to cover with a cough, but Alex frowns at him. 

“What? Is it a bad song?” he demands in that voice that Carlos has heard so many times, the tone of someone who thinks that because theyʼre paying theyʼre better than him. 

“Oh, no, no,” he backpedals almost instantly. “I think itʼs perfect for you.” 

“We have a song!” Alex shouts whooping around as much as the safety belt allows him. He keeps singing and turning to grab TKʼs hand so many times that Carlos isn’t sure how he hasnʼt got dizzy with all the motions. 

When they reach their destination, Carlos is ready to take his ears out. There’s so much sappiness he can stand in one go, and Alex has ticked off all his boxes. Villa Antonia is exactly how he remembered it from five years ago, proud and beautiful under the morning light. There’s a man — late twenties, blonde, blue eyes — waiting by the door. 

“This will be wonderful at sunset,” Alex gushes, stepping out of the car, hands together in front of his chest. 

“Alex! Youʼre finally here!” the blond man calls out. Alex squeals and rushes toward him. 

Carlos can hear TK muttering, “Mitchell? What the hell is _he_ doing here?” 

“Whoʼs Mitchell?” Carlos queries. TK huffs beside him. 

“Heʼs Alex’s spin cycle instructor. To be honest, I donʼt know when he has the time to train, with all the work that heʼs doing these days from home,” TK explains. “I didn’t know why heʼs here.” 

“The more, the merrier,” Carlos replies absentmindedly when he sees another man — dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a deep maroon tie — approach them with a big smile on his face. Carlos recognizes him immediately, and he wishes the ground would open and swallow him whole. 

Lorenzo Bonet. 

“You must be Alex,” the newcomer greets, opening his arms wide. “And you have to be TK.” 

“That’s actually me,” TK says, stepping up. “And you are?” 

“Excuse me for the confusion,” Lorenzo says in a soothing voice. “It wonʼt happen again. So, you must be—” Lorenzo trails off in his attempt to find a reason for Mitchell to be here when he sees Carlos. “Carlos Reyes in the flesh!” he exclaims. “So good to see you!” 

“Same here, Lorenzo,” he lies. Ever since Alex announced heʼd fixed an appointment there, Carlos has hope that Lorenzo wasnʼt working today. Heʼs not ready to face yet another ghost from his past. 

“Iʼm glad to see you,” Lorenzo says, a completely fake smile blinding everyone. “But you shouldn’t have sent your friend last time to lie for you. We would have understood you deciding to choose somewhere else.” 

“Lie?” both TK and Alex say at the same time. Mitchell has the decency to remain silent while Carlos blushes to the root of his hair and ducks his head. 

“Michelle told you the truth,” Carlos tells him. “But weʼre not here to share past memories. Weʼre here to visit the venue for Alex and TKʼs wedding.” 

“True, true,” Lorenzo muses. “Follow me, then. Iʼll show you around. Maybe youʼll choose us this time.” 

“I can sense a story here,” TK whispers as he passes by Carlos, sauntering through the entrance garden while Alex gushes about the place, already clinging to Mitchellʼs arm. 

“Not one I want to share,” Carlos mutters to himself. He hopes Lorenzo lets go of the issue for some time, maybe enough so that the visit is over and they are back on the road to their next appointment, but he has no such luck. 

Sometime in between checking the catering and enjoying the views from the main hall, Lorenzo looks at him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and Carlos knows he wonʼt drop the issue. 

“I donʼt know where you chose to tie the knot, Carlos, but I bet it wasnʼt as beautiful as here,” he says, not even looking at Carlos. “Send my best regards to Jemmy.” 

Carlos feels his world narrowing at the mention of Jeremiahʼs name. He has to hold onto the nearest surface, which happens to be a decorative column, for balance. He stumbles slightly, his ears feeling like stuffed with cotton, and he distantly can hear Alex exclaiming, “Carlos, you didn’t tell us you were married!” 

His vision blurs, and his hand twitches against the column, so he slides not so gracefully to the ground. He closes his eyes, trying to reign in this panic attack thatʼs been triggered by such a stupid thing as a name. It’s been five years, and Lorenzo is a piece of shit and an entitled jerk, but Carlos needs to begin getting over what happened, or else he risks even his job. 

“Carlos, hey, look at me,” TK is saying, squatting next to him, brushing his rebel curls out of his forehead. “Breath with me, okay? Itʼs going to be fine. Just breathe.” 

But he canʼt, there’s no space in his lungs for air when they’re filled with grief and sorrow and Carlos stutters to find words to explain it, but he fails. 

The world blurs to black, finally.

* * *

TK spends the next four days torn between trying to focus at work, trying to please Alex in everything and trying to make sure Carlos Reyes is doing fine despite the situation. Heʼs been worrying about Carlos ever since he had that panic attack in the middle of Villa Antonia — where apparently heʼs getting married now — but even though they managed to help Carlos breathe properly again and Mitchell drove them home, TK canʼt shake the feeling that something’s wrong with Carlos. 

The trip back to downtown Austin was silent. TK doesn’t think heʼs ever going to forget how Carlos felt against his chest, since heʼd offered to act like a human blanket in the backseat so Carlos wouldn’t come to his senses alone. Alex had shot him a glare but he hadn’t said anything. 

TK would have fought his fiancé to the hell and back for this chance to be so close to Carlos it physically hurt not to touch him. TK would have fought an entire town for the chance of being next to Carlos. There have been red flags all along, ever since he first laid eyes on him, but TK hasnʼt wanted to acknowledge them. And now, four days later, he has a seemingly unending string of text messages about his wedding that heʼs exchanging with Carlos, but they feel like code for something else. Something bigger. 

TK canʼt shake the feeling that heʼs lying to Alex by texting with Carlos. 

“Iʼm glad youʼre becoming so involved in all the wedding preps,” Alex tells him on the morning of the fifth day since Carlosʼs panic attack at the venue, when TK is fixing himself some orange juice and Alex is reading the newspaper with a steaming coffee next to him on the table. “Because itʼll be you taking the lead from now on, until I come back.” 

“Come back from where?” TK is taken aback by this sudden bit of information. He sets aside the phone thatʼs pinging with a few unread text messages, and looks straight into Alex’s eyes. 

“You know, if I were a less secure man, I would be mad that youʼre talking more with our wedding planner than with me,” Alex pouts. “But I trust you, and beside, Carlos is married. Why he didn’t tell us is a mystery to me, though.” 

“Iʼm pretty sure there’s more to that,” TK tells his fiancé. “Back to the issue in hand here, where are you going?” 

“I already told you twice before! You never listen to me!” 

“Humor me,” TK pleads. He’s confident in the fact that this is the first time Alex has ever mentioned having to travel outside Austin, but TK has been really busy these past few days and the exhaustion from everything — the shifts, the wedding, worrying about Carlos — is finally taking its toll. 

“I have this big convention in New York,” Alex explains slowly. “Itʼs going to take up the whole weekend. And before you say anything, yeah, I have to go. Part of the agreement when I asked for the transfer here was to be able to go back for things like this.” 

TK nods his head. Objectively, he knows he asked so much of Alex by making him move down to Austin, but a part of him isn’t buying part of that story. He has no way of proving heʼs right or wrong without coming across as some jealous boyfriend, and if Alex hates anything, it’s jealousy. 

“So, Iʼm glad you asked me for Carlosʼ number because itʼs going to make this easier on everyone. You contact him, not that you havenʼt been talking with him too much or anything lately,” Alex throws the accusation around as if itʼs something that isn’t actually bothering him, and TK sighs. “You tell him you have to go pick up the flowers for the wedding and the antique decorations Lorenzo thought would look delightful in our reception, on your own, today. Youʼre in charge this weekend. Donʼt make me look like a fool with all your weird choices when it comes to our wedding,” Alex adds as an afterthought. 

“When are you leaving?” TK asks, crossing the space between them and entering Alex’s personal space with purpose. Theyʼre alone in the house, Owen having gone out for his morning run, so TK had thought that maybe some quality time alone wouldn’t do any harm — ever since choosing the apartment Alex had liked, they havenʼt been intimate — but Alex seems to have other plans. 

“My flight takes off in two hours and a half,” Alex informs him. “Since you donʼt have a car, Mitchell is taking me to the airport.” 

As if on cue, there’s a honking outside that has Alex standing up and reaching for a bag TK hasnʼt noticed until now. “When are you coming back?” 

“Monday afternoon,” Alex says as he pecks TKʼs lips before getting out of the house at the same time as Owen enters, sweaty and panting. 

“Where is he going?” his father asks as Alex rushes past him and hops into an unfamiliar car. 

“The airport,” TK shrugs. “Seems he has a convention in New York.” 

“Well then, I guess weʼll be having some non-Alex approved fun this weekend?” Owen jokes. TK shoots him a glare — he knows heʼs been spending tons of time with Alex both outside and at home, and that Alex has become the new owner of the remote when Owen is on a shift or with his girlfriend Zoe on a date. TK also knows his father and Alex donʼt see eye to eye often. But he is almost offended by his fatherʼs assumption that he canʼt have fun when his fiancé is around. 

“I have to talk to Carlos,” he says instead. “I need to tell him about this change of plans and how heʼs stuck with me for the time being.”

“Such a hardship on both ends,” his father mutters loud enough for him to catch up on it. 

“What do you mean?” he asks harshly. 

“Nothing, son. Just that Carlos is a nice guy who seems really interested in you despite the whole Alex situation. I like him.”

“Well, I like him too, but not like that.” TK is fuming.

“I just canʼt understand why you donʼt see what we all see, TK,” his father says. TK has already heard it all — how Alex is bad for him, how there’s no love between them that outsider a can feel, how the way Alex treats him is inappropriate. “Where has the money for that trip come from? TK, be honest with me. You and I both know that Alex is acting weird. Heʼs always training or with his new friends from spin cycling.”

“I donʼt think I like where youʼre going to with this,” TK warns his father, but Owen is relentless. 

“Please, TK, check the facts. Check your joint bank account. Whoʼs been paying for everything? Whoʼs paying for the wedding and all the crazy expenses Alex and his new best friend Mitchell keep adding?” Owen is looking at him now with concerns in his eyes and TK only wants to flee. “I understand youʼre in love and love is blind, but itʼs time to open your eyes. 

“Iʼm in love with Alex, dad, youʼve said so much just now,” TK explodes. “Stop trying to meddle. Iʼm marrying Alex whether you like it or not. You wonʼt be suffering from this situation any longer, though,” TK adds viciously. “Weʼll be moving out of here and into the new apartment next week, as soon as Alex comes back from the city.” 

He stomps out of the kitchen, climbing the stairs up to his room two at a time, but his fatherʼs voice carries on and reaches him. 

“Such a relief!” 

TK storms into his bedroom and slams the door closed before jumping face-first into the mattress and muffling a groan into the pillow. 

He realizes belatedly that heʼs left his phone in the kitchen. He waits until he hears the shower running — an indication that his father has given up on his quest to make TK feel bad about his life choices — to tiptoe his way back down to grab his phone and his keys. He doesn’t want to be late to his appointment with Carlos, even if itʼs still hours away. But heʼs suffocating at home, and he feels he can only breathe whenever he is with Carlos. 

He stills at the thought, his hand reaching for the knob on the front door. 

He is so _fucked_.

Since he has time to kill, TK walks around Austin for a couple of hours. It isn’t near enough to reach the flower market Carlos has chosen to visit today. He’s been mulling over his fatherʼs words, refusing to acknowledge the fact that deep in his heart TK knows that somethingʼs really _not_ right in his relationship with Alex. He fiddles with his phone, calling an Uber to his current location when he notices that heʼs running out of time, and heʼs arriving to the flower market in time for the first time in the whole wedding process. 

Carlos is already waiting, not a sign of what happened the last day they saw each other. TK exits the car and greets him enthusiastically. “Carlos! Iʼm already here!” 

“TK Strand in time!” Carlos jokes. “It seems Alex is the one late today. Whereʼs your fiancé?” 

“On a plane back to New York,” TK explains with a shrug. “He should be back by Monday. He’s left me in charge.” 

Carlos blinks at him. TK can see a fleeting worry clouding those eyes, something that has his own heart reeling to soothe any crinkling feeling that could tarnish Carlosʼ soul. That should be warning enough in itself, but TK brushes it off as worry for his new friend. Theyʼve been talking more since Carlos had that panic attack, TK feels heʼs closer to him than heʼs to some of his teammates. He feels like theyʼve clicked, pieces of a puzzle falling together to create a bigger image. 

“Oh, well, then I guess Iʼll have to be extra careful,” Carlos teases him. “We both know your choices always make Alex cringe.” 

“Or we could skip it and go have brunch,” TK offers playfully. 

“Believe me, Iʼd love to skip it,” Carlos tells him. “Iʼm allergic to almost everything thatʼs inside,” he explains gesturing toward the market. “Except for roses, thatʼs it. And yet itʼs my job. So letʼs go and choose some good flower for your wedding, unless you want Alex to think you canʼt take care of such a simple task.” 

“Believe me, Alex already knows!” 

His words elicit a hearty laugh from Carlos that lifts TKʼs spirit. He laughs along with him before the two of them enter the market and begin strolling around, checking on the daisies and the tiger lilies, stopping here and there to admire some purple freesias and to inhale the scent of red roses. TK has halted next to some white and yellow tulips, one finger tracing the outline of the petals, when he hears Carlos swearing under his breath. Heʼs observed Carlos enough, heʼs talked to him enough by now, to know that Carlos never loses his cool except when heʼs triggered. Carlos is a collected man with a past that TK would kill to save Carlos from, but heʼs always got a schooled face otherwise. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, turning to his right to place a hand on top of Carlosʼ. “Do you need us to go? Are your allergies acting up?” 

“No,” Carlos chokes out. Heʼs got a handkerchief lift up to his nose and mouth, covering them from the flowers. TK looks at him worried, but before he can say anything else, a strong hand lands on Carlosʼ shoulder, interrupting them. 

“Look who we have here,” a voice TK has never heard before says. 

When he looks at the man that hand is attached to, heʼs met with an older version of Carlos. 

“Andrés,” Carlos mutters. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were too weak to stand walking around a flower market.” 

Andrés — probably Carlosʼ older brother TK decides — sneers as he throws an arm around the shoulders of the woman whoʼs with him. The woman is shaking her head. “Andrés, donʼt be like that. It’s been what, seven years since you last saw your brother?” 

“And I could have gone longer,” Andrés spits out. 

“Excuse me, I donʼt think weʼve ever met,” TK is saying before he can help himself. Carlos squeezes his arm painfully as if he wants TK to shut up, but he feels like he needs to defend Carlos. “My nameʼs TK Strand. And you are?” 

“Andrés Reyes,” the other man says. “My wife, Serena. What’s a good guy like you doing with my brother?” 

“Andrés!” Serena exclaims, scandalized. 

“Why wouldn’t I be with him?” TK says, so bewildered that he doesn’t even bother to correct Andrés. “Heʼs good. Heʼs intelligent and compassionate and loving.” 

“TK,” Carlos mutters. “Let it go.” 

“I just want to understand why your brother thinks so low of you that he doesn’t understand why I would be with you,” TK insists. 

“So, I take it that scumbag dumped you right? You should do the same. My brother only corrupts whatever he touches!” 

“Hey!” TK protests, only to be interrupted by Carlos. When he looks at him, Carlos is staring at his brother defiantly, his handkerchief already forgotten. 

“That scumbag like you say had a name. He was Jeremiah, and he died protecting you and the rest of the people in Austin!” Carlos almost shouts. “Not that youʼd mind, it’s been seven years since you kicked me out of momʼs house because of what? Because I dared to live my life the way I deemed correct? Because I was a cop? Or was it because I asked mom for the family ring to give to another _man_?” 

TK has to physically hold Carlos back before he launches against his brother. “Carlos, calm down! Youʼre going to make a scene in the middle of the flower market!” 

“I donʼt want anything to do with you, or your family, Andrés,” Carlos spits out. “Iʼm done with you.” 

TK manages to separate Carlos from his brother, and apologizes profusely to Serena. He places a hand on the small of Carlosʼ back, guiding him out of the market and away from his blood family. They reach the Camaro with TK leading Carlos, since the wedding planner doesn’t seem to know where he’s walking to. 

“Why donʼt I buy you lunch?” TK offers. “Iʼve seen a few food trucks around, what do you say?” 

Carlos nods feebly, using his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “There’s an amazing Mexican food truck a few blocks away.” 

“On one condition,” TK adds, helping Carlos to straighten his shirt, wrinkled in his haste to keep him off his brother. 

“I donʼt—” 

“Donʼt worry,” he reassures Carlos. “If you donʼt want to talk about your family or—Jeremiah,” and somehow saying that name, the same name that the man at the venue had said, makes TK feel insecure and small. “The only condition is that itʼs my treat.” 

It says a lot about how Carlos is feeling that he allows TK to lead the way without fighting about who will pay the bill. 

Only when they’re already seated, with some enchiladas to share, does Carlos start speaking. “I should have told you about Jeremiah before. I havenʼt been honest with you.” 

“Itʼs your private life,” TK says, reaching out to grab Carlosʼ hand. “I donʼt need to know.” 

“But I need to tell someone, if you donʼt mind listening.” 

“That’s what friends are for.” 

“So, weʼre friends now, huh?” 

TK wants to tell Carlos that they’re more than friends — that friends donʼt look forward to talking every day for hours the way TK does when he knows Carlos is at the other end. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the butterflies flying around in his stomach, because then heʼll have to give it a name, and heʼs still engaged to Alex. 

“Jeremiah was my partner,” Carlos explains with a broken voice. “We were both police officers, and we fell in love on the clock. He was funny, and clever, and so handsome. I loved him with all my being.”

TK canʼt help the surprised chuckle that escapes his mouth. Carlos had been a police officer in another life, and no one had ever thought of mentioning it to him. 

“But,” Carlos sighs into his food. “I wanted to share my happiness with my family. Andrés didn’t like it, and heʼs the head of the family after my dad passed away. And he kicked us both out of the house, and of my familyʼs life, forever.” 

“Iʼm so sorry, Carlos,” TK whispers, his enchilada forgotten on the tray at the table. “I didnʼt know.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Jemmy died five years ago. It was a stint gone awry. It was my fault. I was distracted. And he—he didn’t make it.” Carlos rubs a hand over his face before speaking, his voice still raw. “Everyone at the precinct shut me out. When I was deemed unsuited for the job anymore, they all celebrated it. Thatʼs why they hate me. It was my fault that Jemmy is dead.” 

“You were going to get married at Villa Antonia,” TK realizes. “Carlos.” 

“Michelle had already had the accident that left her unable to use her left arm properly, and she offered me a job at her sisterʼs business I couldn’t say no to.” 

“Iʼm glad you didnʼt,” TK says. “We wouldnʼt have met otherwise.” 

“And what good is in that? Youʼre marrying a crossover between Mr Scrooge and the Grinch.” 

TK shakes his head as he laughs. “Alex is not that bad. Thatʼs the first impression, but heʼs lovely the rest of the time.” 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was unprofessional of me.” 

“Itʼs what you feel,” TK smiles. “Do you know what you need? A boys night out. Let me call Paul and Mateo, and weʼll take you somewhere nice.” 

Carlos is about to protest, but TK lifts one hand while he searches for Paulʼs name on his contact list. “Let me do this, please. Believe me, you need to go out and destress.”

Carlos stares into his eyes, and TK thinks heʼs able to read his soul, all his secrets out in the open. The way Carlos makes him feel scares TK to no end, and it confuses him. He’s supposed to be in love with Alex — heʼs told his father so much this very same morning — but whenever heʼs with Carlos, whenever they talk or they joke or they simply share a dance, TK feels like his world begins spinning again. As though heʼs permanently stuck in an infinite loop of grief and Carlos is the key to set everything in movement once again. 

When heʼs with Alex, TK sometimes feels the need to get high — even though heʼs been sober for a few years now — and it has happened to him from the very beginning of their relationship. Whenever Alex makes him feel not enough, TK craves that feeling of perfection he gets with his pills. 

It hasnʼt happened with his new fire family. It hasnʼt happened when heʼs with Grace Ryder. It certainly doesn’t happen when Carlos is looking at him as though TK holds all the keys to an unknown universe. 

“Okay,” Carlos finally accepts, squeezing his hand. 

TK doesn’t try to quelch the butterflies in his stomach any longer.

* * *

Carlos canʼt believe heʼs been roped into this. He doesn’t know what got into him to accept TKʼs idea to cheer him up, but after the fiasco at the flower market and unloading the pain heʼs been bottling up for so long, Carlos hasnʼt really wanted to go back to his empty apartment. TK has offered an out, literally and figuratively, and Carlos has been keen on following that lead. 

The way TK has defended him in front of his brother has given Carlos a hope he hadn’t dared to feel. He knows TK is still engaged to Alex, but Alex isn’t here right now. Carlos can dream, in this moment, between the panic attack at Villa Antonia and the wedding in a few weeks, that itʼs him TK is in love with. It’s a dangerous game heʼs playing, but Carlos doesn’t want to let go. 

And thus, heʼs following TK into a club Carlos has never heard of. Heʼs texted Iris and Michelle to ask for their advice, and heʼs only got their blessing. Michelle has so much as told him that he deserves to be happy, he deserves to feel again. He has the right to make mistakes again and the right to fall in love again. 

“Cʼmon, Reyes!” Mateo calls for him. “Letʼs dance!” 

“Keep Austin weird, baby!” Paul howls, following Mateo into the dance floor where a crowd is already sweating to the rhythm of the music. 

Carlos walks to the bar, TK in tow. He orders a beer while TK demands a bottle of mineral water. He wants to ask, to cash in information for information, but he doesn’t have the heart to say a word. Theyʼve been skirting around the issue of the sparks flying everywhere whenever theyʼre together, but for a night Carlos just wants to pretend. 

For one night, Carlos wants to make believe that heʼs the one who gets the fairy tale ending. 

So he leans closer as TK stares at him, eyes wide open and inviting. Carlos wants nothing more than to get lost in the feeling, to let go and be free for one night, to drown in too deep green and never be rescued. 

He wishes he could, but heʼs a wedding planner and TK is one of his grooms. How Carlos has allowed himself to break rule number one — never fall for the groom — is a mystery to him. Carlos never thought heʼd be in this position when he started working with Michelle and Iris. He was reeling from everything that happened, he never believed for one second heʼd be over Jeremiah. And yet here he is, wishing he was brave enough to ask TK if heʼd want to dance with him. He doesn’t know why heʼs being so shy — theyʼve danced together before, and itʼs not like a dance will seal their future. TK would still marry Alex, and Carlos would be left with a sweet memory to go by. 

It seems he can only live by memories now. He wants to be mad at himself for moving on, for falling for someone else, but deep inside he knows thatʼs what Jemmy would have liked — for him to be happy, even if it was with someone else. Too damn bad that Carlos has had to fall for the unattainable guy. 

Carlos shakes his head and looks away, trying to forget about the brief second of disappointment he thinks he sees in TKʼs eyes. Heʼs been imagining things so much lately. He can add that to the list. 

TK sighs by his side and turns his gaze to the dance floor without another word. Carlos would love to hold him and reassure him that everything will be alright, and it sounds so funny to his ears — heʼs the one needing comfort after facing the bigot heʼs got for an older brother, and all he wants to do is comfort TK from the sure rejection Carlos himself has inflicted on him. 

But he canʼt make any advances. TK is engaged. Carlos knows it. He should respect it. 

But how spectacularly heʼs failing. 

He sips from his bottle as he watches the crowd, spotting Paul and Mateo shaking in time with the music. There’s a couple dancing slowly although the electronic beats are flooding their ears. Carlos smiles at them, so evidently in love that they ignore the music. TK elbows him. 

“What’s so funny? Itʼs good to see you smile.” 

“Those two,” Carlos points out, signaling the couple who are now kissing passionately. In that exact moment, both of them turn around and Carlos hears TK gasping at his side. He himself has to hold his breath at the sight. 

He’s staring straight into Alex’s eyes, whoʼs now holding hands with Mitchell in the queerest club in Austin. 

“Alex?” TK whispers but it sounds like a scream. Carlos feels it like a slap. “Alex!” 

Mateo and Paul reach them when TK is already moving forward. “Whatʼs going in?” Mateo asks. 

“That,” Carlos says, pointing at Alex and Mitchell before following TK just in case he needs the emotional support Carlos can give him. He doesn’t hear what Paul is saying at his back, but he doesn’t need to. 

He loses track of TK in the midst of bodies swaying around the dance floor. He thinks TK has gone outside because he doesn’t see any of them — nor Alex, nor Mitchell and certainly nor TK —so he walks through the doors and exits the bar to what looks like a scene taken out of hell. 

TK is yelling at Alex, lunging against his fiancé while Mitchell tries to keep them separated. Carlos rushes to them and takes a step next to TK, grabbing his arm to stop him before he makes a mistake. 

“What the actual fuck, Tyler?” Alex screeches then. “You’re here with _him_?” 

“You said you were working in New York!” TK sobs, and itʼs then that Carlos realizes heʼs crying. “You were right there, kissing Mitchell, and you have the gall to accuse me of what exactly? You cheating bastard!” 

Carlos holds him back before TK launches against Alex, fists ready. “TK, calm down. Itʼs not worth it.” 

“I knew there was something weird between you two!” Alex bellows. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with him!” 

“You bastard!” TK finally explodes, getting free of Carlosʼ grip and pushing Alex back into the wall. Despite being similar in height, TKʼs anger fueling him is making him look bigger. 

Carlos has to stop him before he ends up making a mistake that might cost him his career. 

“I bet this isnʼt the only lie youʼve told me!” TK cries, so close to Alex’s face heʼs almost biting his nose. “Was there any convention in New York? Is there any job?” 

Carlosʼ heart is breaking at the sight of TK falling into shredded pieces in front of his eyes. He takes a step forward and grabs TKʼs arm once again, and all of a sudden Paul and Mateo show up and help him make TK step back. 

“TK, stop!” Paul steps between Alex and TK, while Carlos sneaks an arm around TKʼs waist to hold him back. “Itʼs not worth it. Believe me, it isn’t!” 

“Oh, it is!” TK screams, freeing himself from Carlosʼ lock and flinging himself to Alex. Carlos loses his grip on flesh and tries to grab TKʼs shirt from behind, but he fails.

When the three of them manage to reign TK in once again — Mitchell still by Alex’s side — Alex has his face bloody and TK is rubbing his knuckles where he’s connected skin with skin. Carlos groans as TK keeps yelling, calling Alex out for his behavior, but everyone freezes in their spots when Alex counteracts, “You were never worth it! Youʼve been just a distraction! You canʼt even throw a good punch!” 

Carlos will reflect on his actions later on, when heʼs clear-headed and not buzzing with anger. Right now, though, he steps forward and pushes TK aside before lifting his balled fist and finding Alex’s nose. 

The sound of bones breaking soothes his soul. 

The sound of a police cruiser approaching sends shivers up his spine. When Prowell steps out of the car, Carlos knows theyʼre busted. He knows _he_ is busted. 

He shares his first ride in the backseat of a police cruiser in his adult life with TK, the silence broken only by TKʼs sniffles as he tries to hold in his tears. Carlos would love to comfort him, but his hands are handcuffed behind his back and Prowell is watching them like a hawk through the rearview mirror. He settles for leaning against the window and shaking his head every now and then. 

The inside of a cell is exactly the same as the cells from juvenile; Carlos would have found the parallel a bit funny hadnʼt he been arrested by Prowell. He’s made the mistake he had been trying to stop TK from making, but at least his career wonʼt be on the line if anyone knew. And with Prowell in charge of the accusations, the chances of TK getting away with just a fine are growing slimmer by the second. 

They are together in the same cell. Mateo and Paul havenʼt been arrested for the looks of it — Carlos has to admit that heʼs lost track of them in the aftermath of his anger — so he expects that at least TK is bailed out. He knows for a fact that Alex has been arrested as well for drunk and disorderly, just like him, but TK hasnʼt touched a beer the whole day — if Carlos is being honest with himself, he doesn’t think heʼs seen TK drinking anything more than water — so the firefighter should be good to go the second someone pays his fine. 

“Iʼm an addict,” TK murmurs out of the blue, while Carlos is sitting with his head resting on the hard wall. “Right before meeting Alex, I had overdosed. Dating Alex literally saved my life.” 

“TK, Iʼm sure this is not the place where you want to make that confession,” Carlos warns him. 

“I need to tell someone. I need _you_ to know.” TK mimics his stance and sighs. “Iʼm craving that feeling now. I don’t want to relapse but—ever since things got serious with Alex I havenʼt felt anything. Everythingʼs grey. I just wanted—wanted to feel something.” 

“For the looks of it, Iʼd say mission accomplished,” Carlos dares to joke. 

“You’re busting my balls now, huh,” TK retaliates, a small smile in his face. “Seriously, Carlos, thank you.” 

“You should be thanking _me_ ,” Captain Strand intervenes from outside the cell. When Carlos looks, the Captain is accompanied by a sour-looking Prowell. “Out with you two. Thanks, Officer Prowell.” 

“Anything for the Captain of the 126,” Prowell says through gritted teeth as he opens the cell and motions for them to get out. 

Carlos doesn’t ask any questions. He simply follows TK outside without making eye contact with anyone, and he almost misses the expletive Prowell throws his way. He chooses not to heed any attention and keeps walking. His car is back at the station, where they had changed cars to ride with Paul, so now he needs a lift there to pick it up and go to his house to sleep in his bed. For the looks of it heʼs lost the wedding he’s been working on for weeks now, and he needs to rest so much his eyes are drooping closed on their own volition. 

“Cʼmon, Reyes,” Captain Strand invites. “Iʼm sure you need a ride. Where to?” 

They come to a halt next to an Uber, and Carlos hesitates for a second before telling him that heʼd rather go straight to his bed. Captain Strand nods and helps them both into the vehicle, letting Carlos give the driver his address. TK hasnʼt said anything in the whole time, and he remains silent while the driver takes them through Austinʼs hellish traffic. It’s making Carlos nervous but he doesn’t know what to say or how to engage in a conversation. He’s relieved when they reach his apartment building and he steps out of the car after profusely thanking Captain Strand for his help — for paying the fine and helping him get back home — before turning around and entering the building. 

Itʼs over. 

Whatever there was between TK and himself, it’s over. Carlos has lost his commission, and there’s yet another wedding he has to cancel at Villa Antonia — even though Carlos doesn’t have the confirmation yet, he doubts Alex or TK might want to go through with the wedding after last night. He thinks that itʼs his fault, somehow, because they would have never caught Alex and Mitchell if he hadn’t needed to destress. Heʼs ruined their relationship and their wedding in one go, and he should be sad about it, but being the bad person he is, Carlos is kinda happy that it happened because now heʼs free to feel what he feels for TK, even if he knows grief is a bad counsellor and TKʼs not in his right mind right now — nor will he be any time soon — to pursue another relationship, even if Carlos believes his feelings arenʼt unrequited. 

The first thing he does before crashing on his bed without even showering is calling Michelle. Even if itʼs already three in the morning, he knows she’s still awake since she’s been his emergency call for forever, and she’s the one he called from the precinct. Now that he comes to think of it, he doesn’t think TK has made any calls, too busy sulking in his corner of the cell with good reason, so Captain Strand coming to the rescue must be Michelleʼs doing. 

“You home now?” Michelle asks the moment she picks up. She doesn’t sound like she’s even gone to bed. 

“Just got in. This whole night sucks big time,” Carlos tells her. He dips deeper into the bed, covering himself with the duvet. He would kill not to be alone right now. 

“Oh, great. I hope you havenʼt made yourself too comfortable,” Michelle says at the same time his doorbell rings. 

“Is that you?” Carlos groans. He gets out of the bed though. 

“Give me a spare and I wouldn’t be bothering you in the week hours of the morning!” 

Carlos drags himself across the living room and to the door to swing it open. “You should be sleeping!” 

“And you shouldn’t have been arrested for doing Godʼs work, and yet here we are.” 

Carlos has to chuckle at his friend — Michelle looks like she’s rushed out of bed with her hair in a messy bun and an oversized coat. Carlos can peek sweatpants and her favorite torn t-shirt through the open zip of the coat.

“You did run here,” he jokes. 

“Well, I couldn’t go into that precinct and get you two out, mind you. I don’t have that much money. But Owen could. I just—waited until you were safe home to show up.” 

“So you called Captain Strand!” 

“Of course I did!” Michelle pushes him into his house and closes the door at his back. “You couldn’t spend the night there for doing something right!” 

“And look where that took me,” Carlos sighs. He makes a beeline for his bed and falls face-first into it. “I know how selfish this sounds, but I wish TK would have even looked at me.”

“He has just found out his fiancé was cheating on him the whole time heʼs been living in Austin. The fiancé, not TK.” Michelle sits next to him. She pats his shoulder lovingly. “Give him time. I bet heʼs been driving himself crazy with all that stuff with you from before, and finding this out now… It canʼt be easy for him.” 

Carlos turns his head so he is staring at her. His brain is beginning to shut down after all the emotions from the day — his brother, the club, Alex, realizing that he canʼt get over whatever he feels for TK — but he really wants to know. 

“All that stuff from before?” 

“Honey, you can be really blind sometimes.” Michelle threads a hand through his unruly hair. A night at the precinct and all his styling goes down the drain, leaving his true curls wild in the open. He remembers TK praising them during the trip to Villa Antonia, but he doesn’t like them that much. 

“Iʼm not blind,” he mumbles. 

“Yes, you are. But we all love your oblivious ass so much. Even TK, even if he doesn’t see it right now. Now, sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day.” 

He canʼt shake the warm feeling Michelleʼs words ignite inside of him, and with her hands massaging his skull he finally allows slumber to claim him.

* * *

It takes TK a whole week to get out of his bed. He physically canʼt move, not even when Alex manages to bail out of prison and ends up packing his things while TK feigns being asleep. He doesn’t ask, although he dies to know, and Alex doesn’t even mutter an apology his way as he walks out of the room, out of his life, forever. 

TK can hear his fatherʼs more than colorful interaction with Alex all the way from the front door to his bedroom, though. Everything TK would have loved to say to Alex, Owen spits with the fury of a wounded father. TK just covers his head with the duvet when he hears Alex retaliating in a high-pitched voice that TK isn’t one to accuse him of anything when he was out there clearly enjoying himself with someone who wasnʼt his fiancé. 

Alex isn’t wrong, though. TK had been out and about with Carlos, their wedding planner. For days on end, whenever heʼd felt lonely or bored or for no reason at all, TK had reached out to Carlos instead of to his own fiancé. For days on end, TK has been denying the evident pull Carlos has on him. He feels filthy. He feels like a liar. 

He’s not better than Alex, although he hasnʼt been out there blatantly kissing another man. 

“Heʼs gone now,” his father announces from the door, a tray in his hands. TK can make out a glass of orange juice and a steamy mug of what smells like newly brewed coffee. “Can I come in?” 

TK nods faintly. He isn’t feeling up to anything, but his father has made the effort to try and talk to him. He knows heʼs been holed up for so long, his father must be worried. “Iʼm not hungry,” he points out in a broken voice when his father puts the tray down in his nightstand. 

“That? Thatʼs for me,” Owen smiles, picking up the glass and drinking from it. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I am not,” TK confirms. “I will be, though.”

“I know you will. Youʼre strong, my wonder kid. But Iʼm more worried about how youʼre feeling now.” 

TK takes a second to ponder his answer before shrugging. “I thought Iʼd be pissed off. But the truth is, Iʼm just sad. I still donʼt understand why.” 

“These things always happen for a reason,” his father says sagely. TK knows thatʼs the saying, but right now he doesn’t need that cheap psychology. “Alex and you werenʼt meant to be.” 

“I thought he was the one. I know you never liked him,” TK pouts. “I should have listened to you.” 

“We all make mistakes, son. Even Alex.” 

“Are you saying I should forgive him?” Right now TK doesn’t think he can stomach seeing Alex, he doesn’t want to even imagine having to forgive him 

“Has he apologized?” When TK shakes his head no, Owen sighs. “You donʼt have to tell him that youʼve forgiven him. But you should. You should forgive him, and you should forgive _yourself_.” 

TK nods slowly. He knows his father isn’t only speaking about this latest event in his life — heʼs talking about the first time TK actually messed up enough that he almost couldn’t backtrack from it. At seventeen, TK had believed his parents wouldn’t accept him, because he was different, because what he felt was a sin according to his uncle Father John, his motherʼs brother who was a priest at Saint Paul. At seventeen, TK had felt that the only way out was actually wiping himself from existence, and heʼd started using and using and using until heʼd become a shell of himself, until heʼd ended up in a hospital bed with a scary diagnosis and an addiction for life. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Owen insists. “But youʼd be making a huge mistake if you keep moping in here instead of trying to move on. It’s been a week. Iʼm not trying to tell you that you should start dating right away. Iʼm saying that life goes on, and you should choose to live it.” 

TK nods slowly. He allows his fatherʼs words to sleep through his soul, to reach him in places he thought were dead inside of him, and a warmth he wasnʼt expecting spreads through him. He reaches out for the mug, still hot, and looks up at his father. 

“Do you think the guys will take me back if I go on shift today?” he asks in a small voice. For a week, heʼs been holed up in his room. The doctor from the firefightersʼ insurance has given him a medical leave thatʼs up today, but TK hasnʼt been sure about coming back. 

For a week heʼs been reflecting about his life, thinking about his future, and for a few days heʼs even thought that the life heʼs chosen so far wasnʼt the right one. Heʼs allowed Alex to get under his skin and make him doubt everything about himself for so long — Alex, who never thought TK was worthy, who never ever went to visit him at the hospital when heʼd been injured on a shift, who was always trying to make TK believe that no one would ever love him the way Alex did. 

TK doesn’t want anyone to love him the way Alex did, not anymore. Heʼs come to terms with the fact that Alex wasnʼt good to him, even if itʼs taken him longer than a week to do so. Now he needs time to heal and to find his ground once again. 

He knows exactly who he wants by his side on that journey. 

“The guys wonʼt let you go if you show up,” his father assures him. “Marjan’s fed up with Mateo moping, and Judd wonʼt admit it but he misses you like crazy. Theyʼre your family as well, TK. This family will always love you, no matter what.” 

“Then I should jump into the shower if I donʼt want to be late!” 

He doesn’t miss the proud look in his fatherʼs eyes when he sets aside the covers and hops off the bed. 

His firefighter family welcomes him with arms wide open and teasing and good-naturedly jabbing. TK doesn’t have time to do anything before having to switch to first responder mode, though, because soon enough the comms begin failing and they learn there’s a solar storm brewing. First responders have to run from one part of the city to another, putting off fires and saving people trapped in their homes due to communications being cranky. 

When he can catch his breath, it’s almost night and the shift is over. 

TK wouldn’t have wanted his first day back to go differently. He’s got his mind busy with work so he hasnʼt had any second left to wonder about the failure he feels his life is. Heʼs taking off his shirt over his head when Judd steps into the locker room and chuckles. 

“What a day to come back, city boy,” he says. “Iʼm glad you were here. Weʼve missed you.” 

“Iʼve missed you too,” TK tells him sincerely. “I thought I couldn’t make it back, but I was wrong.” 

“Glad you were wrong, then,” Paul intervenes as he steps out of the shower, only clad in a towel. “This wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I donʼt think we could have survived it if another good first responder quit,” Mateo says coming out of nowhere all of a sudden. TK laughs; there’s only Marjan missing in their little reunion, and sure enough she shows up, her head poking through the door as she jokes, “Are you all decent?” 

“What do you mean, another first responder?” Paul questions. TK has the feeling that this whole conversation is staged, from the way Mateo seems to ponder on the answer as though trying to recall his line. 

“I still remember the chaos back in the day, when Reyes stepped down,” Mateo finally says. 

TK feels his eyes welling up at the mention of Carlos. It’s been a week and heʼs been coward enough not to call him; he knows he should have thanked him for what he did. TK has never been brave outside the job, though, so it doesn’t surprise him that his first reaction isn’t reaching out. 

“When Jeremiah died,” Judd adds. There’s a tinge of sadness in his words. “When Jemmy died, Carlos simply stopped living as well. Some officers started giving him the cold shoulder, they thought it had been his fault. But the truth is, Jeremiah was the only thing Carlos had left. When he—well, Carlos resigned and disappeared for some weeks. When he came back, he was different.” 

“He was always silent,” Mateo nods. “And he never laughed. I donʼt think Iʼve seen Carlos laugh in five years, and then bam! Last week he sounded _happy_.”

“I wonder why that is,” Marjan quips in. 

“Or whoʼs to thank for that,” Paul says, staring straight into TKʼs eyes. 

TK is frozen on his spot, too shook to move. He knows objectively that he shouldn’t keep his hopes up, that heʼs just got out of a relationship with a bang and a nuclear bad break up. He knows heʼs half as bad as Alex, at least, because heʼs been harboring feelings for someone who wasnʼt his fiancé. 

If he scratches the surface enough, he can see that he hasnʼt been in love with Alex for a long time. Heʼs been asleep, walking through life like in a dream, until he met Carlos. And he knows it hasnʼt been one-sided. He knows Carlos felt the same, from all the sparks going off between them when they were together. 

Carlos has been his awakening. 

And heʼs made a big mistake by isolating himself for a week. 

“I—I should get going,” he chokes out, fumbling to put a different shirt on and grabbing one of his softest hoodies. “I have to—Iʼve got somewhere to be.” 

Everyone whoops and cheers while he bends down to pick his sneakers. 

“Now, Iʼd love to stay here for all the lovey-dovey stuff youʼre about to spew,” Judd states. “But I should go back home. Graceʼs got a hard day with this solar storm, and I should be there for her.” 

“Maybe you could give TK a ride?” Owen suggests innocently from the door. TK hasnʼt realized his father has been there all along. “He seems to be in a rush.” 

“I certainly could, Cap. Cʼmon, city boy, donʼt want you to be late.” 

TK follows him, asking in a shaky voice for Judd to take him to wherever Carlos lives — he doesn’t know the address, but he knows Judd does. Judd dismisses him with a wave of his hand and motions for him to hop on the car. TK obeys, his heart pounding in his chest and his head spinning with all the things he wants to tell Carlos when he sees him. Somehow, _I love you_ doesn’t sound too strong right now. 

He knows itʼs true, though. He knows heʼs fallen for Carlos. He knows he would walk on fire for Carlos. 

Before he realizes it, Judd has stopped the car in the middle of a hill. There’s no building around, and it takes TK a few moments to understand that Judd hasnʼt driven him to Carlosʼ. 

“I doubt Carlos lives here,” he dares to say. 

Judd shakes his head. A small smile is painted on his face, a smile TK doesn’t seem to understand. “I have the feeling youʼll find here what youʼre looking for. At least, thatʼs what Michelle said when I asked her.” When TK stares at him blankly, Judd chuckles. “What? Did you think I was going to take you where I wasnʼt sure Carlos was? I have my sources, kid. Now go, there’s a certain Camaro waiting for you.” 

TK scrambles to get out of the car so fast that heʼs out of breath by the time he sets both feet on the ground. He doesn’t even register Judd driving off, heʼs too busy searching for the blue Camaro that he could already point out of a crowd with his eyes closed. 

There’s a figure lying on top of the car when he finally spots it, a silhouette cut against the skies lit in green by the northern lights that have never been seen so far south. TK takes a few unsure steps toward it before steering himself and deciding he canʼt doubt himself about this. Doubt will never help him fulfill his dreams. Doubt had led him to Alex. 

He’s not allowing doubt to take over his life ever again. 

“Is there space for someone else up there?” he says when he reaches the Camaro. Carlos flails at the sound of his voice, turning around and spotting him right away. 

“TK, what are you doing here?” 

“I was looking for you,” he declares. He’s tired of beating around the bush with his feelings. Heʼs tired of hiding. “Can I?” he asks, gesturing at the car. Carlos nods. 

TK jumps on top of the car and lies down, close enough to Carlos that he can feel his heat radiating off in waves, but still unsure about touching him. TK is now aware of Carlosʼ triggers, and he can recognize them if he tries hard enough. He wants to try, for the rest of his life. 

Where he hadn’t been a hundred percent sure about Alex, even though heʼd proposed, TK is sure about Carlos. Heʼs sure about his feelings. He knows Carlos better than he ever knew Alex, and he wants to keep learning things about Carlos. 

“You’re important, too,” he blurts out. “I know you donʼt think so, after everything that happened, but—youʼre important. To me, at least.” 

“TK,” Carlos whispers, his head turned toward him, a pleading look in his eyes. 

TK inhales deeply before lunging into what heʼs here to say. Then, he speaks in a rush, for fear his courage will dissolve in rivulets of thin air. “I barely know you,” he sighs. “I don't know your motherʼs first name. I don't know if you ever wore braces or contacts or glasses. But I know that youʼve been hurt and that I want to soothe that pain. I know the curves of your face and I know every fleck of gold in your eyes. And I know that every single moment Iʼve spent with you has been the best time I've ever had.” 

Carlos gasps at his words, eyes widening as he blushes underneath the green skies. 

TK doesn’t think the northern lights can ever compare to the beauty heʼs witnessing right now. 

“We make a good team,” he says, voice trembling slightly. He wants to say so much, but he canʼt find the right words. He can only hope that his voice and his eyes convey everything heʼs feeling right now. 

“We do, donʼt we?” Carlos confirms. 

TKʼs heart skips a beat or two before he can say, “Afraid so.” 

A shaky hand finds Carlosʼ as TK boldly reaches out, hoping against hope that he hasnʼt misread anything. TK leans in, fingers lacing with Carlosʼ. “Someoneʼs told me that they hadnʼt seen you happy in a long time, until they saw us together,” TK whispers. “I loved hearing you laugh. I loved seeing you smile. I want that to stay with me, Carlos. I want _you_ to stay with me.” 

“You sure?” There’s a shadow of a doubt clouding Carlosʼ doubts. TK only wants to kiss it away, and heʼs got the feeling that heʼs about to be allowed to. “I come with so much baggage and I—” 

“We all have our own past,” TK cuts him off. He caresses Carlosʼ hand. “What matters is how we go forward, together. If you want, thatʼs all.” 

Carlos flashes him that thousand watts smile of his that blinds TK, and he canʼt help himself. He closed the distance between them and kisses Carlos the way heʼs been wanting to do ever since they met. Itʼs different from all the other times TK has kissed anyone else — there’s no earth-shattering feeling, there’s no overwhelming desire. 

TK Strand feels like he belongs, finally, underneath a sky full of light, in the arms of Carlos Reyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts about this story!
> 
> * Every line that you recognize it's either 911 Lone Star or The Wedding Planner. For the former, I transcribed from the subtitles of the show, and for the latter I used [this script](https://www.scripts.com/script/the_wedding_planner_23187).  
> * Villa Antonia really exists, and it's a wonderful place to get married at in Austin. You can find pictures and other information about the place on [their official website](https://www.theknot.com/marketplace/villa-antonia-austin-tx-447708).
> 
> Thank you very much for reading this monster. It means a lot to me that you went through over 20k of silliness. Come scream with me about all things Tarlos and 911 Lone Star in general over at [tumblr](https://lire-casander.tumblr.com/)! [Requests are open](https://lire-casander.tumblr.com/ask)!


End file.
